


Why him?

by Jalec



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alpha regression, Hurt, M/M, Temporary hurt, Wolf regression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalec/pseuds/Jalec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek gives up his alpha spark to save Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why him?

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously an AU. In the show Derek actually gives up his spark to save Cora.
> 
> Inspired by: https://twitter.com/tyler_hoechIin/status/535658197306994689

"It could easy kill you," Peter says. For once his voice actually sounds sincere, like he actually cares about Derek. He takes a few steps, he walks around a beam in the loft. He puts a hand to the cold, hard surface and lets out a sigh as he closes his eyes and mutters something under his breath.

Derek doesn't respond. He knows exactly what giving up his alpha spark could do to him.  _Could_ do to him. It's not guaranteed that he will die. There's a fine line. Admittedly a very fine line, but a line nonetheless. If he stops when he crosses, just between his beta state and a death state, he'll live, his spark will be gone, but he will be alive.

Peter grunts as he hits the beam. He walks out from around it and glares at Derek, Derek who is hunched over a table, his head down.

"Why him, anyway? He's not worth it, Derek." _T_ _hat_ sounds like Peter. "The little brat is Scott's problem, not yours. What has he ever done for us?"

"For  _us_?" Derek repeats, angrily. He whips around and eyes Peter off. He grits his teeth, like he's just being offended so greatly that he might attack. "He doesn't have to do anything for  _us_ , Peter. He doesn't have to do anything for  _anybody_. He's a kid, and he's human. He lives in a world of monsters and _DEATH_."

"A risk he took willingly. Don't tell me you don't know he thinks this whole thing is thrilling, a joke, Derek."

"So that means we--," he falters, and if Peter didn't know better, he might think that Derek was about to shed a tear. "--I should let him die?"

Peter rolls in closer to Derek who has dropped his head. He puts his hand on the alpha's shoulder and shortens himself so that he can look up into Derek's face. "No. It means it's not...your problem." Peter can't maintain his sincerity long, so he backs away and turns his back to Derek. He straights his voice out so it is cold and unemotional: "Call Scott to come and get him. He will figure it out...Scott always figures it out." He sounds a little jealous on that last sentence, and his voice is soft almost like a whisper.

"No." Derek responds. "No."

Derek begins to walk over to his bed, the bed that an almost unconscious Stiles is laying on. He's covered in beads of sweat, but he mutters that he's cold. His eyes flicker every so often, and occasionally his body will twitch or convulse in a horrific way.

"De–," Peter starts out, but the alpha whips his body around. He bears long fangs and deep red eyes, making Peter take a step back. Derek blinks and his eyes return to their normal colour.

"I'm doing it, Peter. I'm doing it now. I won't be an alpha soon, but if you want to stop me while I still am, try me now. Just  _try me_."

Peter doesn't dare argue with that, so he moves back to the table and perches himself on top of it.

Derek walks over to his bed, and sits on the side of it. The pressure on the mattress means Stiles dips to one side. It makes him open his eyes. He looks up at a figure, but at first he's not sure who it is. The two have had something between them since they first met. At times it presents itself as a rivalry, at other times as concern, but now it feels more like something that's simply _right_. Surprisingly, amazingly, the two hardly speak, but their looks, their touches, and their behaviour speak volumes about how they feel about each other.

"Stiles," Derek says as he lowers his head closer to the boy. "You're going to be okay." He smiles, although Stiles can't make it out.

"D–Derek?"

"Yea, Stiles. Derek."

The alpha slips his hand under the boy's which is laying limply beside him on the bed. They have to make contact, to touch, to do this. It starts with Derek concentrating. He begins to take Stiles's pain. It doesn't take him long for him to take it all, because there's not much there, not when someone is this weak. Someone once told him that once you're close to death, you begin to lose feeling. Once he's taken it all, though, he doesn't stop. He still concentrates on taking all that he can, but there's a point where that taking becomes a giving sensation, and he just  _can't_ stop.

All of his senses engorge themselves, and he feels physically heavy. Peter stands a good ten meters away, and Derek isn't concentrating on him, yet he can still hear his heartbeat, he can hear the wind pass Peter's eyelids when he blinks. Derek shifts his weight on the bed, and he can hear something  _twinge_ underneath him, a screw.

When Derek begins to hurt inside himself, he knows it's working; he's healing Stiles. Pins and needles begin to grow in every inch of his body, and he wants so desperately to let go of Stiles's hand so that he can scratch and claw at himself, but he still can't stop. Like a magnet, his other hand grips onto Stiles's, and he holds it tight. With his arms outstretched, his veins begin to become more pronounced. At first they start off a vile looking grey-green, but they develop into something void black. With the colour change comes to evolution of the feeling of pins and needles into intense, searing pain, as if Derek's blood was being boiled.

He manages to open his eyes for a second, just to look down at Stiles, and he sees that the boy still lays almost entirely lifeless on his bed. He would have expected something by now. ' _Can you still heal someone, but not fix them?_ ' Is the thought that is going through his head, so he pushes harder. He pushes harder than he knows he should, and Peter knows it too, which is why when he steps forward Derek lets out a horrendous, fierce roar. His fangs extend and his eyes glow crimson for the last time.

He looks up. In his eyes tears begins to form. Tears born from both pain and power. Until they're not, until they're simply just pain. And with them, his eyes fade from crimson to cyan, the veins on his arms fade back to normal, and he falls limp on the bed beside Stiles, still conscious, but just barely. He is no longer the leader of a pack; he is no longer immensely powerful; he is no longer an alpha. But when he looks over at the usually hyperactive kid next to him and sees his eyes flutter because he is waking up, it's okay, because he's done what he tried to do. What he  _had_ to do.

Stiles sits up, quickly, full of energy, like nothing has happened to him. For a moment, he's confused. The first thing he sees is Peter, then he looks around, and he notices the innards of Derek's loft.  _Then_ he notices Derek, lying loosely beside him, weak. The first thing he does is whisper Derek's name because the man looks helpless and pale like he's about to die.

"Derek. Derek!" He's frantic; he puts his hands on Derek's shoulders, flipping him over so he's on his back next to the boy with the moles. "Derek!" He shakes him, like he's supposed to wake up from a deep sleep. But he doesn't,  _his_ eyelids flicker, and he lets out a painful sigh which may have actually been a weak attempt at saying Stiles's names. Either way, Stiles takes it as the latter, because he's relieved. He's relieved because Peter doesn't look concerned anymore, and if Derek can speak, even weakly, then that's a good sign. He'll be okay. And now the pair have come full circle. Stiles was weak, and Derek was there. And now Derek is weak, and Stiles is there.


End file.
